


Unhidden and Unforgotten

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Codependency, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Manipulation, Episode: s03e12 Aletheia, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another life, in a different world, Finch lets him go and says nothing. In this one, he begs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unhidden and Unforgotten

**Author's Note:**

> A fucked up little alternate Rinch ending to _Aletheia_. Probably OOC. Mentions of Reese/Carter.

"John, you can't go." _You can't leave me to do this alone_ hangs in the air, echoing in the silence.

 

John's already walking off along the corridor; long, sure strides even though he must be in pain.

 

In another life, in a different world, Finch lets him go and says nothing. In this one, he begs. "Mr. Reese, _please_."

 

John stops, so abruptly that his shoes squeak on the floor. He bows his head and turns, his face veiled in shadows, and Harold hurries to meet him.

 

When they are close enough to touch, John rasps "Give me a reason to stay."

 

He stares at him, desperately. Finch hesitates a second longer and then - with an awful sense of inevitability - lifts his hand to John's cheek. John shudders and leans into it at once, alarmingly grateful for the gentle contact. Oh, he's been a fool to deny them this for so long. At the same time Finch knows he's being unfair, playing this card now. They're both grieving, in shock, vulnerable. It's absolutely the worst timing imaginable. But he also knows that if he allows Reese to walk out that door he may never see him again. It's selfish. If revenge is Reese's greatest vice, selfishness is his.

 

His other arm winds tight around John's back so he can't run away. John leans their foreheads together with a low whine and a ragged breath. Reese had held Carter like this as she bled out, Finch recalls, and he's horrifically picturing himself standing over Reese's freshly dug grave, shovel in hand, even as he presses their lips together for the first time. It's far from romantic. They fit awkwardly together, both too stubborn, too guarded to melt into one another and find rhythm. They mostly press and cling to each other in the dark, soft wet noises in the quiet of the library. He becomes aware that John is crying, tears slipping out from the outer corners of his closed eyelids and traveling down past his ears to his jaw. Harold's instinct is to dry them, to wipe them away, but that would be worse. He's already erasing John's decision to leave, he can't reject John's pain too, as though it is something to be ashamed of, buried, discarded. _I came back to protect you_ echoes in Finch's head. He's doing the opposite of protecting John here.

 

"I'm so sorry," he finds himself murmuring, repeatedly. "I'm so sorry, John. You're right to blame me."

 

"No." John chokes out. His hands are suddenly in Finch's hair, outspread fingers spanning a considerable area on his skull, touch without pressure. (Reese could snap his neck in an instant. John would never hurt him.) " _No._ It's not you I blame."

 

Harold frowns. John told him moments ago that he was leaving because they could no longer work together. John blaming him makes perfect sense. "Of course you do. You have every right. When we started, I promised you we'd be there in time."

 

John lets go of Harold's head, drops his hands to his sides. He looks as confused and helpless as Harold feels. "You're not understanding me. The Machine, Finch. It knew and it didn't warn us until it was too late. Why?"

 

_Did you know?_ He'd asked, after Nathan's death. The Machine had quietly revealed that it had. But _why_ is a problem he couldn't solve then and can't now. "I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that."

 

John sniffs loudly, shuts his eyes and shakes his head, the lines around his mouth tightening with anger. "You built it, you should." He mutters, bitterly.

 

"I should." Harold agrees. He lifts his fingers to John's temple, strokes his hair with his thumb. "Blame me all you want, if it helps you. Just don't leave. I can't lose two people I care about in quick succession. I've been through that before and it's...not an experience I wish to repeat."

 

John's expression slackens into shame. He blinks very rapidly, warding off more tears or clearing the others away, Finch can't tell. Perhaps the similarity has only just occurred to him. He knows enough of Finch's past to catch his meaning. His eyes search Harold's, flicking side to side, and then he slumps forward, wrapping his arms tight around him, chin resting on his shoulder. Harold adjusts his stance to hold him, feet further apart on the floor. His hand slips to the back of John's neck. Harold lets him lean on him, relieved that John trusts him this much.

 

"M'sorry. I didn't think..." His voice is muffled in Finch's shoulder.

 

"It's all right, John. Thank you for staying."

 

"I was...being stupid. Thought you didn't care. Forgot you're going through the exact same thing as me."

 

"You're not the first person to make that mistake." Harold offers, remembering Nathan's cutting comment: _if you had anyone in your life you cared about_. "And you're right, it's not the same for me. You loved her."

 

John hugs him tighter. "She's the best of us."

 

"She is, and always will be."


End file.
